


Plans

by goddessofcruelty



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Romance Novel, Father of the Bride Chris Argent, Fluff, Frottage, M/M, Public Sex, Wedding Planner Peter Hale
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-13
Updated: 2014-09-13
Packaged: 2018-02-17 06:44:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,654
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2300246
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/goddessofcruelty/pseuds/goddessofcruelty
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Freeze.” Peter's voice of command halts Chris in his tracks, and he settles his hand on the gun at his hip as the man advances on him...and puts the silk right up against his face.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Plans

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Claire](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Claire/gifts).



> Prompt: Petopher: Wedding planner falls for the bride’s brother :D
> 
> Note: I could not, for the life of me, put Kate in a place where she’d want/need a wedding planner, so I went with bride’s father instead

 

The first time Chris Argent meets Peter Hale, it's when he hears shouting and comes around the corner to put a gun in the other man's face.

“Dad!” Allison's voice cuts off mid-rant and is filled with shock and dismay. And there's an embarrassed flush to her cheeks as she starts to apologize to the man.

“Peter, I am so sorry, my father is a little over-enthusiastic as well as over-protective.” She glares and takes the man's arm and walks him away, leaving Chris confused.

“That would be the wedding planner,” Isaac walks up behind Chris, looks over the older man's shoulder. “They argue like that over every single detail.”

Chris shakes his head and tucks his firearm away. “Why doesn't she hire someone else?”

Isaac shrugs. “Apparently, he's the best there is.”

Chris narrows his eyes after the duo. “He better be.”

-

When he walks in a few weeks later to hear shouting, Chris sighs and walks in sans drawn weapon this time. He blinks at the tornado of fabric everywhere, and Peter's waving a length of blue silk, and Allison's got peach satin and he has no fucking clue what is happening here.

Chris takes one step back, then another, just four more steps and he's out the door.

“Freeze.” Peter's voice of command halts Chris in his tracks, and he settles his hand on the gun at his hip as the man advances on him...and puts the silk right up against his face.

“Look!” he demands at Allison, who purses her lips and narrows her eyes and comes over and puts the satin up against his other cheek, and Chris isn't sure if he's under attack or not.

“You win this one, Hale,” she grumbles and stalks back, grabbing wads of cloth and shoving them into a canvas bag.

Peter keeps his fabric against Chris' skin a moment longer, studying, and Chris flicks his gaze over to the younger man, and their eyes lock for a long moment. Peter flushes faintly and then backs off abruptly, declaiming himself always right as he resumes his battle with Allison.

Chris spins on his heels and walks right into Isaac who's coming around the corner. The older man grabs Isaac's arm and tugs him back the way he came.

“Come on, I need to go kill someone.”

-

Peter's on his third shot when he sees Chris across the club, and he can't help but notice that the older man is wearing the exact same shade of blue, and it might be the whiskey talking, but Chris Argent is absolutely gorgeous.

Peter leans back and watches him, shadowed by the eternally present golden-haired pretty boy Isaac, and he wonders. He wonders what it is that Chris does for a living that makes him pull a weapon when he hears yelling, that he needs a bodyguard for, then he needs to constantly be in perfectly tailored suits for.

Then Chris shrugs out of his jacket, turning to hand it to Isaac and Peter has to swallow hard because those slacks should be _illegal_. And now that he can see all of that cornflower blue shirt, Peter can also see how it forms to a body that's apparently kept in perfect shape.

Chris Argent is beautiful, and Peter Hale collects beautiful, precious things.

It's no surprise to him that he finds himself drifting across the dance floor towards where Chris and Isaac are sitting, well Chris is sitting. Isaac stands behind him, slightly to the left.

Peter nods when Isaac looks at him, but the younger man doesn't stop his approach, and so Peter just settles himself down across from Chris.

“Mr. Argent,” he greets with a lift of his glass, which makes Chris arch a brow and turn the full weight of his gaze on the wedding planner.

“Peter,” Chris says, and hearing his name on those lips really shouldn't do _things_ to him. He wants to hear Chris say it a thousand different ways; gasping, pleading, demanding, breathless, tenderly, sleepily the morning aft- No. No no no. Peter Hale doesn't do morning afters. Or tenderly.

He's just realized this, just realized that he needs to get up and get his ass out of there, when Chris rises and holds out his hand.

Peter looks up into those blue eyes and he's lost, and when Chris says, “Dance with me,” he does.

-

Peter doesn't end up having to worry about morning afters because they don't make it past the hallway wall in the back of the club.

It takes three songs to get them to that point and Peter's pretty sure that's a record for him, and that's just about the last thought he has because Chris is shoving him against the wall, and normally Peter tends to be the one doing the shoving, but he finds with Chris, it's _really_ working for him.

Chris makes quick work of both their zippers, and he thrusts his tongue into Peter's mouth as his hand wraps around both of them together.

He kisses Peter the entire way through it, barely letting the younger man come up for air, devouring his moans as he spills over their hands, Chris' release following moments later. But even then Chris doesn't let him go, just kisses him softer and softer as he gently tucks them both away, after Isaac hands him some wipes.

Chris looks down into Peter's eyes, leans down for a barely there, chaste kiss on the lips, and then steps back, sweeps away with the bodyguard in his wake. Neither of them look back.

Peter wonders what the hell just happened.

-  
They don't see each other again until the wedding rehearsal, and Peter's too busy changing and altering and making everything absolutely perfect to really notice that Chris can't keep his eyes off the wedding planner. And Chris is too busy playing host and breaking up disagreements to see the side glances that Peter keeps throwing at him.

It's not until everyone is gone, and Peter's perched on a table, scribbling notes in his planning journal that he gets to really see Chris. And that's because the man walks right up to him, inserts himself between Peter's legs and tilts the younger man's chin up to look at him.

Peter blinks, then arches a brow.

“Mr. Argent?”

“Call me Chris,” he says and then leans down and kisses Peter softly, before pulling back to look into the younger man's eyes. “I can't stop thinking about you. Come home with me.”

For so _many_ reasons, that is the _last_ thing that Peter should be doing tonight.

He does it anyway.

-

Peter is expecting a quick fuck and then a toss out the door, based on the fact that their previous experience had gone similarly, and also Chris doesn't seem like the type to bother with anything less.

Peter is very wrong.

Chris undresses him slowly and gently, kissing every inch of newly revealed skin, and when he lays Peter down on the bed, his touch is gentle, worshipful. He takes his time, he's deliberate and _thorough_ , and by the time he's got three fingers inside Peter, the younger man is a quivering mess.

Chris slides into him in that purposeful way, and then holds himself inside, wrapping his arms around Peter as they lay on their sides. Chris peppers kisses along the younger man's neck and shoulders, lets one hand lazily drift down to tease at oversensitive nipples, and doesn't start moving until Peter is whining for it.

That teasing hand moves down to Peter's neglected cock now, wrapping tightly around it and tugging slowly. Chris keeps Peter on the edge for far longer than he would have thought possible, and then he shoves him over it, with a sudden bite to the shoulder and a fierce snapping of hips.

Peter cries out into the blankets he's got bunched in his fist and shudders beneath Chris, then lets out a low moan when he feels Chris pulsing inside him.

Again the older man surprises Peter, instead of immediately cleaning himself off, he pulls Peter in tighter, holds him close and returns to kissing the soft skin of his neck tenderly.

“Stay,” he whispers into Peter's ear.

-

He's still there when the alarm on his phone goes off, and Chris insists on sharing the shower with him. It takes rather longer than usual, but Peter thinks it was totally worthwhile.

It's not until Chris is serving him breakfast that Peter starts to have his post-intimacy panic attack, because this is all _way too fucking comfortable._

Peter resolves not to have anything else to do with the Argent once this wedding is over. He really can't do the whole return engagement thing.

He doesn't count on Chris Argent.

-

Peter freezes in the hallway in front of his apartment, because Isaac is standing at his door. The golden-haired bodyguard opens the door for him, graciously allowing him into his own fucking apartment, where he sees Chris sitting comfortably on his sofa, drinking a glass of his wine.

“I've missed you,” he says, and then crooks a finger as Isaac closes the door behind Peter.

Peter arches a brow. “So you broke into my home and stole my wine?”

“I've done worse,” Chris shrugs, and looks around. “This place is too small. Move in with me. I have three houses, take your pick. You can choose the furniture, paint whatever.”

Peter blinks and then narrows his eyes. “What, exactly, is it you do for a living?”

Chris tilts his head. “I'm a firearms dealer, CEO of Argent Arms International.”

 _That explains the 'done worse,'_ Peter thinks. He's fallen for an international arms dealer.

Peter really wishes that didn't turn him on, but apparently there's something really wrong with him.

Chris tugs him close, right into his lap, and kisses Peter until his eyes are glazed and his lips puffy and red.

“Go pack.”

**Author's Note:**

> Please let me know if I need to tag anything.
> 
> [Tumblr](goddessofcruelty.tumblr.com)


End file.
